And Love Again
by softer
Summary: "The bed is so big," And empty without you. "And Alexis won't let me sleep on her bedroom floor." Anymore. The third and final installment of the 'To Love' series.
1. Chapter 1

_No, your eyes do not deceive you.  
>Yes, I think I did take <em>quite _long enough to post this.  
>If you haven't read To Love or And Lose, you might be a bit confused.<br>Thank you to IMW, for her endless patience with both me and this chapter.  
>And to Susan. I got your card and…everything. It was really really really sweet. Thank you. <em>

**…**

"It's been three weeks."

She says it with just enough spite, just enough anger, just enough emotion. He could hear the raw edge of despair she tried to hide with fierce determination. He sighed, softly, resting his head on the door frame in defeat. Kate pushed past him, ignoring his silent reply.

"By all means," Rick said, dryly, waving his arm in a welcoming gesture. "Come in." She stood in the kitchen and absorbed the state of the loft.

The couch was covered in pillows and blankets, all of which she recognized as belonging on his bed. It was her turn to sigh, as she ran her fingers through her hair. Her eyes fell closed as she mentally reigned in her emotions.

She didn't know when she'd stopped caring about consequence. Maybe it had been on the drive over. Maybe it had been a week and a half ago. Hell, perhaps it was during that weekend at her father's house.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes before turning around to find him right behind her.

"24 days," he corrected, his tone low. His eyes flickered up, gauging her reaction, afraid of what he might see. Pain clouded her green eyes, and he found himself looking away again. "I just needed-"

"Time," she finished, irritation in her voice. "I know. I expected that- hell, if you hadn't asked for it, I would have _ordered_ you to take a break from work. But three weeks, Rick?"

"Following you around is selfish of me, Kate," he said, suddenly, surprising her right out of her tangent. He seemed to be looking for his next words as if he were expecting to find them in her eyes. "It's no longer about the books and it sure as hell isn't about research."

His boldness read like a challenge, but it was a challenge from which she wouldn't back down. If he wanted to have this conversation now, they would.

"I know," she confessed. "We both have for a long time." She didn't need to ask what changed. Everything had changed. She wasn't so naïve as to ignore that.

"I need to think about what's best for my family," he told her, in a voice she'd never heard from him.

"You say that like you've made up your mind."

"Maybe I have."

"Then maybe it's my turn to be selfish."

There was a long, heavy pause while they both processed this. His words had hurt her and hers had shocked him, yet both were far from ready to admit he was right.

"What do you want me to say?" His voice was barely a whisper as she closed in on him. He felt himself gravitating towards her, and she to him, craving the closeness they'd been denying themselves.

"Tell me you missed me," she murmured, her breath ghosting over his cheek as she spoke the words. She felt his nose against her neck, in her hair, and she leaned into his touch almost instinctively. Her hands traveled the broad span of his t-shirt clad shoulders, before slipping one under his arm to his back. The other slid into his hair, holding him against her. She felt his arms encircle her, one winding around her waist and the other stretching up towards her shoulder. For a second she thought her feet might leave the ground.

"I miss you," he mumbled into her hair, as she released a heavy breath she'd had no idea she was holding. For her part, Kate nuzzled her face into his neck, relishing the closeness.

"Where is Alexis?" She couldn't tell if he'd stiffened or she'd only imagined it, but nevertheless he continued to hug her.

"She's at the…a doctor's appointment." She understood the meaning in his vague wording, so instead of prying further, she ran her hand up and down his back in soothing patterns.

"You aren't with her," she stated, after another long moment.

"We thought it'd be better if we didn't make it a big…thing."

She almost chuckled at his diction. "You know you sure use a lot of dead words for a writer."

"A lot?"

"Touché," she murmured, relieved for the reprieve. "And you?" She asked, solemn once again. "Are you seeing someone?" Upon feeling his nod, she visibly relaxed in his arms. Still, she held on tight. "You've been sleeping on the couch."

It was less of a question and more of an observable fact that demanded an explanation.

After a long pause of consideration: "The bed is so big," _And empty without you. _"And Alexis won't let me sleep on her bedroom floor." _Anymore. _Everything he didn't say reverberated around in her mind far louder than anything he had.

"Rick, I-" her hands found the front of his broad chest and she suddenly became quite fascinated by the threads of the forest green t-shirt he was wearing. She paused, mentally re-routing. "You were there for me when I thought things just couldn't get worse."

She was thinking of the hours she spent pouring over his words, of escaping from the reality of her mother's death, her father's alcoholism, everything. He was thinking of that weekend in Saratoga, of the photograph, the first names, the hand-holding.

For once they're on the same page, but in different books.

"Let me be there for you," she whispered.

"You were."

"So caring stops once everything is okay?"

"You don't need all of this-" he began, but she hardly let him finish.

"Is that what this big disconnect is all about? Some sort of misplaced attempt to protect me from something?" Although her words were dripping with venom, her eyes showed him everything else. He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off before he could speak.

"Timing has never been our strong suit, has it?" Her eyes softened and her voice was apologetic-almost mournful. Her hand fell to rest on his chest. "You feel guilty."

Memories of that torturous week flashed through his mind:

Kate grasping his hand.  
>Hugging him in bed.<br>Holding him together when hope wasn't enough.

Alexis had been in the hands of a killer, and while he'd been in the hands of a woman who had refused to let him lose himself.

He had spent the past three weeks wallowing in self-blame and depression, and she'd interrupted him before he was quite finished. If only he hadn't followed Kate around every day, if only he hadn't let Alexis go to Paige's house that night, if only he'd tried harder to protect his family. If only.

They were dangerous words and they had him stuck in a tailspin.

"I blame myself," she stated, suddenly, her eyes apologetic. His gaze darted back up to hers, and she was finally met with those clear blue eyes.

"For what?" He asked, unable to stop the question. "For making me eat and sleep?"

She swallowed, hard, then continued: "I- I overstepped a lot of our boundaries."

"I'm glad you did," he admitted, his words rolling out without permission. "I think that's what's eating at me. If you hadn't, I-" his voice cracked, and she put her hand over his mouth, gently.

"I know," she said, simply. "If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't do a damn thing differently."

He felt the countertop against his back. There was nowhere to go.

"Something's gotta give," she murmured, her nose brushing his. A long moment passed where neither of them moved- Rick scarcely breathed. "Touch me."

She felt his heart beating steadily under her hands as she rested them against his chest, and soon his fingers were gripping her waist. Hands ghosted her hips, inching under her hoodie, underneath her tank top, until he was caressing the skin of her lower back. When she failed to pull away, he covered her mouth with his own.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, her elbows resting on his shoulders as she pressed her body as close to his as she could, drinking him in. She arched into him, her chest crushed against his, their shirts creating friction, eliciting an uninhibited moan.

When he broke away, seconds or hours later, she wasn't sure, he didn't let her stray far, his nose settling against hers, his breath washing over her swollen mouth. Involuntarily, she shivered.

He wanted to say so many things, ask so many things. He wanted to kiss her again. Instead he asked, "Are you cold?"

"No." She whispered the word against his skin.

Rick measured time in heartbeats and labored breaths.

"What do you want, Kate?" he asked, afraid the silence might eat them whole. Afraid he might run out of time. These things scared him almost as much as her answer. Seven heartbeats and three exhales later, she spoke.

"This." She pulled away only long enough to look at him. He absorbed her words, letting them roll around in his head until he grasped her meaning. "I want you and me. _Us_. I want to be 'Kate' all the time."

Four beats, one deep breath.

Her nose brushed his again, nuzzling him lightly until her lips were barely touching. "I love you, Rick."

The words had barely escaped her mouth by the time he flipped them around, and then it was her back pressed against the counter edge. His lips pressed fiercely against hers, whatever passion he'd held back in the first kiss, he poured into this one. She responded in kind, pressing herself against him in a silent plea for more.

"Tell me again," he breathed, his lips hovering above hers.

"I love you." She was cut off by her own sharp gasp as he bit down on her lip, her leg hitching over his hip in consequence.

One of his hands remained nestled against the small of her back, holding her close while the other abandoned her waist to gently brush her cheek, that was utterly contradictory to the way his mouth captured hers.

The hand on her cheek slipped back into her hair and tugged gently, exposing her neck. She concentrated on memorizing the feeling of his tongue against her throat, his teeth nipping lightly, his lips, ghosting across her skin. All of a sudden, the sensations stopped, and she felt the weight of his head resting against her clavicle.

"I love you," she murmured, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. She pushed him, gently, just enough space between them so she could lower her mouth over his. The kiss was tender, sweet in a way it wasn't before.

"I love you too," he murmured, his lips still pressed against hers.

And then the front door opened.

"Dad?" he heard Alexis' voice call out, followed by the door shutting, her keys jingling as she tucked them away. He flew from Kate, his pupils now dilated for an entirely different reason. She tugged her shirt back over her midriff from where he had pushed it up, while he used his fingers to push his hair back as best he could, both hastily trying to hide any trace of their predicament.

"In the kitchen, Sweetie," he called back, proud at how _normal _he sounded. It wasn't ten seconds later that she appeared at the kitchen island.

He knew how they must look. Kate was still pressed against the counter, her hands planted on the marble surface behind her in an attempt to look casual. In contradiction, her hair was mussed up, her shirt rumpled, and her lips were almost as scarlet as the blush crawling up her neck. He was certain he didn't look any different.

"Detective Beckett," Alexis drew out her name. Kate froze, not missing the use of her title. A few moments passed before at last, Alexis broke into a small smile. "I've missed you." Kate relaxed instantly. "_We've_ missed you."

The redhead stepped closer, and almost instinctively, Kate opened up her arms, enveloping the girl in a tight hug. "I've missed being here, Lex," she murmured into the girl's hair. It was a long time before either moved to break away.

Kate had seen Alexis once after The Incident. That's what she had been mentally calling it. It wasn't healthy to euphemism it; she knew that, but it was easier than calling it 'that-time-her-world-all-but-fell-apart'.

It had been in a small café during a long lunch break that she assured the youngest Castle she would visit the loft. _Soon, _recalled saying. It felt like a broken promise the moment the words had passed her lips. Kate was shaken from the memory by the muffled sound of Alexis mumbling into her blouse.

"This what you call soon?"

"I'm sorry, Lex," Kate murmured, sincerely, tightening her hold. "I'm so sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again," the teenager said, pulling away, the traces of a smile on her face. In her peripheral, Kate noticed Castle inching closer to them.

Kate released her, watching with a faint smile as the girl transferred seamlessly from her arms to her father's. "How was it today?" she heard him mumble. Alexis shrugged, noncommittally, leaning back far enough to look into her dad's eyes.

He brushed her bangs from her forehead, dropping a kiss to the scar bordering her hairline. She had worked for years to grow out her hair, convinced bangs were _so _last year, only to cut them the day she was released from the hospital in an attempt to cover the angry pink mark.

"It was…whatever. What's for dinner?" she asked, clearly anxious to change the subject. Castle swallowed the lump in his throat and repeated the mantra his own therapist impressed upon him: _she will talk about it when she's ready. _

"Uh, well, I was just about to start on that," he told her, recovering from the disappointment quickly. "Soup and sandwiches sound alright?"

"Sounds perfect, Dad," without moving from his arms, she turned to look at Kate. "Can you stay for dinner?"

"Oh." For a moment, Kate forgot they could even see her. She was captivated by their interaction, leaving her standing, awkward, and without words. "I, uh, I wish I could, but I…can't." She winced as she finished the sentence. It sounded like she was making excuses.

"I have an...um, an engagement." Alexis' eyes asked for a more detailed explanation, but for once, Castle took his cue.

"Why don't you pull out the cheese you want me to use, Sweetie," he told her, releasing his daughter. "I'm going to walk Kate out."

Alexis just hummed her response, eyeing them suspiciously. She was hurt, Kate could tell.

It wasn't until they were on the opposite side of his front door that either of them spoke. She leaned backwards against the wall of the hallway, fiddling with the cuffs of her shirt.

"I'm not running away from this, Rick," she assured them. "Ryan cashed in his karma chips, and I got suckered into doing him a favor tonight."

"I believe you." He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, resting his weight on it. She read the stress in the lines of his face, and without thinking, she found her hand winding around the bicep he used to balance himself, her opposite arm snaking around his waist.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"If you want to see Ryan about that favor you owe him sometime in the next century, you'd better swallow that offer." No one spoke for a long moment and she remained wrapped around him, afraid to pull away prematurely. Before the silence broke them, he spoke.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

It was hopeful.  
>Promising.<p>

She felt the smile blooming on her face as she absorbed his words. "Yeah, Rick." She replied, pulling away to touch his cheek, gently. "Until tomorrow."

…

"_And frequently we ignored our love, but we could never mistake it."  
>Ben Qweller<em>

…

**I don't normally extend past the quotation, but I'm making an exception in this case.  
>To accompany the beginning of the new installment, I put together a soundtrack that marries this series made up of music that inspired this story. I've put links on my profile page to download them, if you are interested.<br>(Feedback is so much appreciated).**


	2. Chapter 2

_I am beyond sorry that this chapter took so long- I massively underestimated the stress of moving cross-state/starting college/being a grown up (what _is _that even?).  
>For the record, I wouldn't ever abandon a story (that's an issue? Not with me). Hopefully I'll be posting fairly regularly again.<br>To Emily, for helping me make sense of my imagination.  
>And every reader that puts up with me. <em>

**...**

The beep of the alarm and the click of the front door startled Rick awake. He strained to hear the small sigh that emanated from the front door, the almost imperceptible clink of her keys joining his on the foyer table.

He heard the unmistakable sound of the deadbolt sliding home, and he relaxed a fraction.

She was trying so hard to be quiet, but he would recognize the sounds of _her_ from anywhere. Thoughts of 'she's here' and 'she used her key' flew through his mind, and it was all he could do to steady his breathing.

Rick reflexively slammed his eyes shut, trying with all his might to relax the tension that seized his body. Anticipation had his heart in a frenzy, and he was almost certain she could hear it beating against the confines of his chest.

He heard the sound of her shuffling towards him, of shoes on carpet, then socks on carpet, and when she finally reached the edge of the sofa, bare feet on carpet.

There was the rustle of her coat being shrugged to the floor, followed by the faintest whisper of fabric against skin and the dull thud of heavy material meeting the area rug.

Rick was holding his breath, and if she couldn't hear his heart before, certainly she heard it then. The distinctive sound of folding fabric was followed by more footsteps, and the next thing he knew, she was pulling back his comforter and slipping beside him.

The normally spacious couch was significantly smaller with the both of them occupying it, but the way her lithe body melded so easily against his left him itching to pull her closer.

He was all too conscious of her extremely bare shoulders, and the micro-ribbing of the tank top that covered her torso. Her legs entwined with his, and he could feel the contours of her curves, warm and firm as she curled herself around him.

He felt her eyes scrutinizing his face, and he forced himself to breath normally. It was after what felt like hours of this examination that he felt her fingers on his skin, tracing the plane of his forehead, the gentle slope of his nose, the strong line of his jaw.

Her touch was feather light, her fingertips barely more than ghosts over his features, and he didn't realize how close she was until he felt her warm breath wash over his neck.

"Rick," she whispered, her hand falling into his hair, threading through brown strands before reaching to pull the comforter higher over both their shoulders, insulating them. Her hand slipped under the covers, finding his back and rubbing, softly. "Oh, Rick."

She sighed, her chin falling to his shoulder. He was acutely aware of her steady gaze as she continued to study him. She reached under his pillow, her hand finding his easily, fingers weaving together. A smile almost gave him away as he remembered waking up on Jim Beckett's couch to find their hands laced together just like this.

She planted a kiss where her chin rests against his shoulder blade and at last, rests her cheek there, the hand not laced with his still tracing up and down his upper spine.

"This isn't supposed to hurt so much," she murmured against the fabric of his t-shirt.

It was amazing how the faintest of whispers could shatter his heart into so many pieces.

**…**

She had the presence of mind to wake before him. She forced her eyelids open, squinting at the rising sun, which peeked through the skylight above them. She was still wrapped up around him, their hands laced under the pillow they now shared. There was a small spot of drool where her head lay- she hoped he didn't notice it, but knew he would. Her free hand still rest at the base of his spine. She moved it lazily up his back to check her watch and groaned.

She was not ready to be awake.

Rick stirred, but settled under her touch and the smallest fraction of her weight, and she couldn't help but smile, softly, brushing her fingertips against the back of his neck. She brought those fingers to her mouth, physically stopping herself from planting a kiss where they last lingered.

She reigned herself in and sighed, wiggling from the couch, missing its- his- warmth already.

She adjusted her maroon tank top over herself, pulling it back over the smallest sliver of midsection that had an unfortunate tendency to ride up. _Unfortunate_, she scoffed at herself. _Why'd you wear it, Katie? _She asked herself, berating the little voice that tried to downplay her motives.

After fixing her pajamas, shivering only slightly when the cool air hit her bare arms and shoulders, she shuffled towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to take inventory of her options.

She struck gold when she reached the pantry, a wide smile spreading on her face as she mentally accounted for everything she needed.

**…**

Alexis pushed herself from her bed, socked feet hitting the ground before her eyes even fully opened. She blinked a few times, her hand coming to flatten over her bangs, self-conscious even in her sleep-drunk state. She glanced at her clock- it was just after eight. Even with such restless sleep, she couldn't stay down past quarter after.

She debated cracking a book open and staying in bed for another hour to keep her father's worry at bay, but her rumbling stomach disagreed with her, so she rose and made her way into her bathroom.

She brushed tangles from her hair, pulling it into a low ponytail. She observed herself in the mirror a moment, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes. Her glance fell to the concealer sitting on the edge of the sink. She was running out, she'd have to go get more.

Her gaze traveled back up to meet her reflection, and after a moment, decided she could skip this morning. Her father wouldn't be up for another hour at least, so she'd go, get some breakfast, and then bother with the makeup.

After one last glace, ensuring her bangs were in place over the scar that echoed her hairline, she slipped on a white button up and knotted the sides closed over her camisole, tip-toeing down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She was greeted first by the smell of breakfast. She almost turned on her heal right then, completely unprepared to face her father, but the sound of humming stopped her in her tracks.

_Humming._

_Female humming._

_Pretty humming._

Curiosity won over, and she found herself in the kitchen, where Kate Beckett, in a tank top and sweatpants, was cooking breakfast. Cooking breakfast and humming.

"Kate?" The detective's name tumbled out of her mouth unbidden, causing the woman in question to whip around suddenly, spatula still in hand.

"Alexis," Kate recovered quickly from her slack-jawed surprise, smiling warmly. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Alexis let the last syllable hang, slipping into one of the barstools. A million questions raced to the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back, instead asking the only one that really mattered.

"What's for breakfast?"

The detective grinned, reaching to the opposite counter to grab a large red plate. On the plate, a huge waffle wore two blueberry eyes and a strawberry jam smile.

"A berry pancake?" Alexis couldn't keep the goofy smile out of her voice.

"A berry _smiley face _pancake," Kate corrected, her smile widening at the teenager's glee. Alexis caught her gaze, shyly.

"How'd you know strawberry jam is my favorite?"

"Your dad loves orange marmalade, and it was the only other logical reason to have strawberry in the fridge," Kate shrugged.

"Thank you, Kate," Alexis said, her hand falling to cover the detective's on the counter. The older woman glanced down at their hands, pinpointing exactly when the conversation stopped being about just breakfast. She smiled, tearing her eyes away to meet the redhead's, her thumb brushing the back of her palm.

"I'm sorry I left." Kate's bottom lip worried under her teeth.

"It's okay," Alexis promised, shrugging her shoulders as she met the detective's jade green eyes, finding her appearing apprehensive.

"It's not." And now they weren't just talking about last night, either. "You deserve better than that, and I know berry pancakes isn't going to fix everything, but-"

"You're here now. All that matters." Alexis smiled, sincerity in the soft squeeze of the brunette's hand. "Besides, they're berry _smiley face _pancakes."

Kate couldn't keep the relieved smile off her face. "Eat," she slid the plate closer to Alexis, who grinned, utensils at the ready. "So," she began, once the girl had gotten a few bites in. "Those weren't there yesterday." She pointed her finger under the girls eyes.

Alexis looked at her for a moment, her pale blue eyes just as piercing as her fathers, before, swallowing the bite of waffle in her mouth. "Neither were those," she angled her fork towards the dark circles Kate wore.

"Touché," and with that, the conversation dropped and the newfound tension faded in the midst of forks scrapping against the bottom of plates.

**…**

Rick woke to a spacious couch. Recollections of the early morning flooded back along with his consciousness, and he was disappointed to find Kate's spot had gone cold. He wanted to wake before her, hold her a little longer, talk to her, even.

He'd stayed awake long after her breathing evened and she'd drifted off to her dreams, his mind working at a whirr only the night allowed.

It was dangerous territory, thinking so hard while she was so close. While he could still feel the weight of her head against his shoulder blade, the warmth of her body, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

But he'd started and there was no stopping the train of thoughts that ground its way uninvited through his sleepy mind.

She hurt, he realized. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that she wasn't okay, but it was such a jarring revelation. It killed him that it took the loss of his daughter to bring them here.

To bring them to cuddling and touching and I love you's.

To bring them closer.

With every step forward they took, he was plagued with a new wave of guilt. He couldn't see past the pinnacle of it all- of them. He wanted to go back and re-write the climax.

But he couldn't.

Last night, he promised himself that if he couldn't fix the climax- move it, change it, erase it all together- he would perfect the falling action.

And right now, he was hurting both of them.

This was why Richard Castle didn't write tragedies.

**…**

"Dad," Alexis greeted as a very sleepy looking Rick stumbled into the kitchen. Kate smirked, hoping it would cover her trepidation.

He leaned down and planted a kiss into his daughter's hair, his hands falling to her shoulders. "Good morning, Pumpkin."

"Morning, Dad," her hand came up to her father's forearm in greeting, smiling warmly. He reached over her, stealing a blueberry and popping it into his mouth while she was distracted. "Hey!"

He skipped behind the counter, deftly avoiding her swatting hands, smiling jovially. He eyed Kate's dish, swiping some jam that had ended up on the edge of the plate with his finger before sticking the digit in his mouth.

"Not orange marmalade?" He pouted a little, and Kate couldn't keep the amusement off her face, slapping his chest half-heartedly.

"That's because this is _mine _and orange marmalade is _gross. _Yours is over there," she pointed with her elbow to the cutting board to the back-right of her.

He reached over to get it, apparently determined not to move his feet, and ended up grabbing her waist to keep his balance while he stretched. His fingers, still damp from his mouth, were hot against her skin, her cursed maroon tank leaving a small sliver exposed.

_Damned tank top. _

She shoved his hand away, more to stop the flush rising to her cheeks than anything, and he stumbled a little before regaining his footing. "Your hands are sticky," she said by way of explanation, tugging down her top.

Thankfully, he was too busy digging into his waffles to notice the pink tinge crawling up her neck.

"So Pumpkin," he started, his mouth still full. "Plans today?"

Alexis shrugged nonchalantly, never taking her eyes off her plate. "Might go to the library for a bit. I need to go shopping for a few things."

"You've got that test tomorrow, right?" She'd insisted on going back to school after her mandatory week of rest, much to his dismay. He'd have liked to spend more time with her.

"Theory of Knowledge. I don't think it will be too hard but the professor gave us some recommended reading that I'm gonna squeeze in."

"Sounds good. You called for the car?" Alexis only nodded.

It was their compromise- she got to go pretty much anywhere she wanted, but she took the town car everywhere, no exceptions.

She didn't like him for it, but it beat the alternative of staying home all the time, so she accepted. It didn't stop him from worrying, but he couldn't deny her anything, let alone make her feel imprisoned.

"You know I can grab stuff for you from the store. I have to go get some groceries, anyways," Rick offered, casually, picking the berries from his own plate now.

"No, it's okay. It's on the way, and it's…you know. Girly stuff."

"Oh." He looked as if he might push the matter, but he bit his tongue, instead smiling. "Okay. I'm just going to hang out and write some today."

It was Alexis' turn to smile. "That sounds nice, Dad." When her plate was cleared, she smiled, putting the plate in the sink before politely excusing herself. "Thank you for the breakfast, Kate."

"Anytime, Alexis," Kate smiled as warmth filled her heart.

She watched, curiously, as Rick leaned over her once more, double checking that Alexis was up the stairs and out of earshot. This time, when his hand fell reflexively to her shoulder, she didn't shrug it off, instead welcoming his warmth. When he decided his daughter was in her room, he turned back to Kate.

"Did you see the circles under her eyes?" It wasn't what she was hoping to hear, but she was careful to keep the fall in her heart and off her face.

"She's just dealing, Rick," she turned so she was facing him, her hand rubbing his arm as it held his weight against the counter behind her. Her touch fell to his ribs, where she moved her hand up and down, soothingly.

"It's not even that. I just hate that she hides it from me. We don't hide things from each other, Kate." The palm that rest on her shoulder moved to her neck, his large hand easily encompassing her jaw line, the gentle pad of his thumb brushing her cheek.

"She'll come around. She's hurting but-" she sighed, heavily. "You aren't going to want to hear this."

"Tell me," he whispered, his eyes drifting closed. He knew what she was going to say- he'd heard it a hundred times. Told himself a hundred times. Maybe hearing it from her would make it easier.

"Alexis will come to you when she's ready. When you're both ready."

It didn't make it easier.

"I'm ready."

"No, you're not," this caused his eyes to open with the sole purpose of meeting hers. "You are just as unprepared to hear the story as she is to tell it. Rick," her free hand rose, her fingers covering his mouth as he opened it to respond. "Knowing helps, but…but you need to find answers for yourself first. Heal yourself before you even try to take on her burdens, too."

"Isn't that my job?" he murmured, this time into her hair.

"Your job is to love her, Rick." A long moment passed before he drew back, meeting her eyes once more nodding, slowly. Understanding. Accepting. Perhaps both.

"Speaking of," he began, the hand cupping her face trailing up to push stray strands of hair from her forehead. "I think we need to talk."

...

_We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more from imagination than from reality. _  
><em>Lucius Annaeus Seneca<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**_And Love Again_**

_*reposted and fixed, sorry for the confusion*_

**_This chapter has been gathering dust, and liviafan1 gave me the courage to publish it.  
><em>****_Thanks, Liv._**

* * *

><p><em>Speaking of.<br>Speaking of love._

She felt the bite of the counter against the small of her back. _Speaking of love, we need to talk. _Her arms tightened around his waist, one hand bunched in the fabric of his t-shirt, watching as the fingers that once rest on her cheek fiddled with stray hair.

"Yeah?" She breathed, all air and no certainty, and he pushed the strands behind her ear. He gazed at her for a moment and suddenly the hand on her waist swept her flush against his chest. She huffed out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I'm glad you came back," the words float to her, warm over the shell of her ear.

"You don't get anymore space," she informed him, resolutely, the fingers that weren't gripping his shirt figure skating up his spine.

"I don't want any," he murmured, slightly bemused at her declaration but more thankful than anything. A little relieved.

She chuckled, the reverberation flowing in a thin staccato. "Well then it's decided." She pulled away, gently, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Seems like you've put your foot down."

"I have."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine."

She cracked a small smile before allowing her fingers to ghost over the center of his chest, where she knew her mother's necklace still hung, hidden beneath his t-shirt. "I made a promise to you, too."

His hand crept up to clutch hers, silently tangling their fingers together. "I know."

"Us and this kitchen." She broke the heavy silence with one musical note of laughter, while he cracked a smile.

"Us and this kitchen," he agreed, softly. Before he could say anything further, the shrill tone of the door buzzer interrupted them. He let out a frustrated groan before reluctantly slipping from her embrace, dashing halfway up the stairs before calling Alexis to let her know the town car had arrived.

Alexis appeared shortly after, dressed simply in a long sleeve shirt and jeans. She busied herself in the closet of the foyer, sitting on the floor to lace up her snow boots. Kate couldn't help but think she looked incredibly young at that moment, planted on the hardwood floor with her knees to her chest, lacing her wheat colored roll-up Timberlands, tucking the hem of her jeans into the top.

She stood, slipping a heavy, navy pea coat over her shoulders, before shrugging in to a matching scarf. Kate continued to observe them in fascination as Rick pulled the hat over her head, covering her eyes briefly, causing her to laugh as he rolled the end to just above her brow. He kissed her head, telling her to be safe, and with a quick wave to Kate, the redhead was gone.

Kate didn't realize she was staring after the girl until Rick was herding her against the counter again, his hands smoothing her torso before finding purchase on her hips. She turned back to him, and he stunned her when his lips brushed across her cheek, the ghost of a caress. She cocked her head to the side, her brow furrowed.

"What was that for?" Still, she let her arms fall over his as they circled her waist, slightly confused but comfortable in his hold. She liked being here. Right here.

"You just…the way you look at her. The way you always have."

His can't help but see the two of them – growing closer and closer over the past few years in this very loft.

"She's easy to love, Rick," she replied, simply, and she swore she saw his heart swell in his gaze. Had she ever told him she loved Alexis? Has she ever told Alexis?

She wasn't sure she'd even told herself.

"You should tell her that," Rick murmured into her hair, where his nose nudged her temple.

"Yeah?" She was distracted by the feel of his breath washing over her neck.

"Yeah," he grinned into her hair. "It's the only thing you have to tell that girl more than once."

"And you're sure she's yours?"

"Ha-ha detective." He pulled away the slightest bit, placing a chaste kiss on her jaw. "We should finish talking."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" She was afraid of his words.

"Kate," his forehead came to rest against hers. "I haven't been fair to you." Her fingers wound their way into the hairs on the nape of his neck. "I…" His arms shifted around her, pulling her closer, as if he were afraid she would disappear.

"Hey." Her hands left his neck and fell to his forearms. "I'm not going anywhere. We covered this."

He sighed, heavily. "These weeks...they've been hell without you. I kept searching for my best friend to talk to and I just—"

"Why didn't you call, Rick?"

"I didn't want you to—"

She didn't let him finish. "I missed my best friend, too, you know." Her voice came in a whisper; her warm breath tickling his cheek, as his forehead fell to her shoulder.

"You…you make it easier. You make me _happy_, Kate. And I don't even know if I deserve to be happy. Not while she's so hurt."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard." She ducked her head, the delicate bridge of her nose bumping his shoulder so he would lift his head and meet her eyes. "Just because you love me…" Her heart erupted with butterflies as the words crossed her lips. "Doesn't mean you love your daughter any less. And she knows that."

"How do you know?" She could have imagined it, he said it so quietly.

"Besides the fact that you tell her every chance you get?" She nearly scoffed.

"What are words even worth?"

"You tell me; you're the one with the millions."

He remained silent, almost red with the effort it took not to feel sorry for himself, and he watched as the challenge in her hard gaze softened into understanding.

"Rick, that girl is so, _so _lucky to have you in her life." Her hands fell to his broad shoulders, before drifting up to allow her delicate fingers to brush the nape of his neck. She dipped her forehead to rest on his chest, her even breathing fluttering over the exposed skin. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft. "And just so you know, Castle, you make me happy, too."

She smiled when she felt the small squeeze he gave her, the soft press of his lips against her temple, the broad span of his fingers across her back.

He relished the way her body fit perfectly against his as she rested flush against his chest. There was something so warm about the gesture, so familiar and yet, so rare.

"Do we have to move?" he mumbled into her hair, his breath washing over her ear.

"Do you really want your daughter to come home and find us right here where she left us?" Kate countered, grinning at the prospect.

"Are you really going to answer my question with a question?" He felt her answering in the form of a smile against his neck.

"Few more minutes."

**…**

"Wow." Alexis felt the air whoosh out of her as she stepped into the loft. The entire place was cloaked in a warm glow. A fire was lit in the dining room's fireplace, and candles adorned the living room, and if she wasn't mistaken, somewhere, incense was burning.

A smile bloomed on her face. _Home. _

She pulled off her coat, shaking off the snow it had collected. Her hat, gloves and scarf joined the coat in the closet, and she tucked her boots between her father's and Kate's. She admired the notion for a moment, another smile on her lips, before turning her attention back to the living room.

In the oversized arm-chair, Kate was curled up, her feet tucked under the arm cushion, a book balanced on her raised knees. Across from the detective, her father was seated in the middle of the couch, both his arms spread on the back of the sofa, his head lolling backwards. It should have been awkward but instead it was adorable and endearing and _her dad. _

Kate looked up from her book, following the younger woman's gaze from her to her father and back. "Cleaning wore him out," she greeted by way of explanation. Alexis said nothing, just turned to her with a smile. "What?" Kate shifted, awkwardly.

"Nothing," Alexis replied, but after a moments' consideration, "I'm just glad to be home."

The smile Kate gave her, the one that reached her eyes and made them look so green, made her glad she amended her statement.

She walked over to the sofa, settling herself gingerly beside her father, careful not to jostle him awake as she tucked herself into his side, her head falling to his chest.

Kate sucked in a deep breath at the sight of them- at that overwhelming ache that squeezed her heart. _Love. _Apparently, the feeling choking the air from her wasn't as discrete as she hoped, and Alexis was looking at her expectantly.

"I…um…I can make dinner. If you're hungry. We wanted to wait…" Kate's voice trailed off, and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Is it okay if we eat in a bit?" the redhead asked, quietly. "I haven't seen him sleep like this since-"

Yeah.

"Of course," Kate agreed, as Alexis looked from her to the other side of Rick and back again, expectantly.

After a moment's hesitation, Kate picked up her book and stood, re-settling gently on Rick's other side. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her head on his shoulder, looking to Alexis over his broad chest. The teen smiled at her before letting her eyes flutter closed, her arm draped across her father's waist.

Kate turned to her book, flipping to where her finger marked her page. She glanced over the words but her mind wandered, and she found herself counting the heartbeats of the man beside her, reveled in the way her body picked up the steady rhythm, adopted it, matched it.

She abandoned the book altogether in lieu of him, shifting so she could brush her mouth against his jaw. She settled more completely against his chest, letting her arm travel his waist, brush Alexis' wrist. Her fingers played with the girls' shirt sleeve, absently. Before she knew it, her eyes were sliding closed, allowing the rhythmic sounds of his heart and her breathing to lull her to sleep.

**…**

Kate woke to the uncanny feeling of eyes on her. She smiled before she opened her eyes, fully expecting to see Rick watching her sleep.

"Creepy," she murmured, trying and failing to keep her grin at bay. It wasn't creepy, it was amazing and sweet and-

"Sorry," a small voice that did _not _belong to Richard Castle answered.

Kate's eyes snapped open. She wasn't leaning on Rick's chest anymore, she was laying, stretched out on the couch, her head on a throw pillow. Alexis lay squeezed beside her, arms wrapped around the detective's midsection, her head falling just below the her chin.

Blue eyes stared up at her, worried and embarrassed, and after she got over her initial surprise, Kate just smiled.

"It's only creepy when your dad does it," she whispered into the younger woman's ear, earning a smile.

"I secretly like it," Alexis whispered back, the blush dying from her cheeks.

"Me too," Kate confided, and watched as Alexis beamed at the secret sharing. "But don't tell him that."

"I won't, but you should." The blush was back. "And sorry I'm using you as a pillow. You're comfortable."

"And you're warm, so don't be sorry," Kate let her hand fall to the girl's red hair, her fingers comb through it.

"Hey Kate," Alexis murmured, her head flush to the detective's collar.

"Hmm?" Kate's eyes had fallen shut, her fingers still moving through the girl's hair, absently.

"You think we're gonna be alright?" The words came so softly she almost missed them.

Kate opened her eyes, letting them fall to meet Alexis'. She drew her hand from her hair, pushing back the girls bangs instead. Her index finger traced the angry pink scar without hesitation, without preamble.

"I think we're going to be more than alright, Alexis." She murmured, replacing the girl's bangs gingery.

"Kate I-" the redhead stopped, mulling over her words in her head. What she wouldn't give for her father's way with words right about now. Dissecting diction she could do. Inventing her own…not as easy. "Thank you. I don't think I ever told you. Thank you for…everything."

Kate could do nothing but stare blankly at the girl, speech escaping her.

"For saving me. Saving my dad. Pulling us all back into…" she shook her head minutely, "us."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, everything she couldn't say and everything she never thought to voice aloud trying to force their way out at once, causing a silence to reign.

Before she could get the words out, though, Alexis was retracting her arms, sliding off the couch before offering out a hand. "C'mon, Dad's cooked dinner."

* * *

><p><em>"Home is whenever I'm with you."<em>  
><em>Edward Sharpe<em>


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